Bellwether Ballad - Israel Nash Gripka

Oh, miss Mary I settle down,

make an honest man out of me,

well I take to your father’s land,

I learn to keep good company.

In the spring you can marry me,

but women and pain they never wait.

Some got the timing right, but I was too late.

Oh, my bones are tired and worn,

time it shows upon my face,

I’m still looking for those mountain tops,

you can tell by the way I celebrate.

The fire’s now have all gone out,

but I think that I would stay,

Some got the timing right, but I was too late.

Sometimes I think that the sky will break,

you just keep me on the line,

my mother’s praying that my soul he’ll take,

a hope that gets me through the night.

I should turn the pages of your book of ages,

but my hands with age they shake,

Some got the timing right, but I was too late.

Oh, Missouri won’t you bless my soul,

'cause I’m a Bellweather son,

When this city, it spits me out,

to the yours old highlands I will run.

If you don’t hear from me, keep it in your memory,

try to make it everyday,

Some got the timing right, but I was too late.